--women, girls, valets, fine gentlemen--everybody in
fact swarmed, as before, to consult their destiny. The former tenant had
built up such a reputation that the garret was still a sibyl's den, in
spite of the fact that quite a different creature dwelt in it. "I tell
fortunes? Surely you're joking! Why, gentlemen, I cannot read, and as
for writing, I never learnt more than to make my mark." But these
disclaimers were useless. People insisted on having their fortunes told,
and she had to do it. In consequence, she put by plenty of money, being
able to earn, in spite of herself, quite as much as two lawyers could.
The poverty of her home was a help rather than a hindrance. Four broken
chairs and a broom-handle savoured of a witch's frolic.

If this woman had told the truth in a room well-furnished she would have
been scorned. The fashion for a garret had set in, and garret it must
be.

In her new chambers the first fortune-teller waited in vain; for it was
the outward sign alone that brought customers, and the sign was poverty.

I have seen in a palace a robe worn awry win much distinction and
success, such crowds of followers and adherents did it draw. You may
well ask me why!

[Illustration: The garret was still a sybil's den.]

XV

THE COBBLER AND THE FINANCIER

(BOOK VIII.--No. 2)

There was once a cobbler who was so light hearted that he sang from
morning to night. It was wonderful to watch him at his work, and more
wonderful still to hear his runs and trills. He was in fact happier than
the Seven Sages.

This merry soul had a neighbour who was exactly the reverse. He sang
little and slept less; for he was a financier, and made of money, as
they say. Whenever it happened that after a sleepless night he would
doze off in the early morning, the cobbler, who was always up betimes,
would wake him up again with his joyful songs. "Ha!" thought the man of
wealth, "what a misfortune it is that one cannot buy sleep in the open
market as one buys food and drink!" Then an idea came to him. He
invited the cobbler to his house, where he asked him some questions.

"Tell me, Master Gregory, what do you suppose your earnings amount to in
a year?"

"In a year," laughed the cobbler, "that's more than I know. I never keep
accounts that way, nor even keep one day from another. So long as I can
make both ends meet, that's good enough for me!"

"Really!" replied the financier. "But what can you earn in one day?"